


Dream Not of Blood

by VespidaeQueen



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2012-06-21
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VespidaeQueen/pseuds/VespidaeQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Frigga, family is not formed by those who bear her own blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Not of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> While this is technically set in the Marvel movie universe, it draws heavily from Norse mythology, with the concept of Frigga knowing the fates of those around her. Thor's relation to Frigga is drawn from both mythology and comicverse. I will also say that I have very limited knowledge of Marvel comic's Frigga and so her characterization here is not taken from there.

 Frigga sees much, but says little. Her dreams are those of prophecy, spider threads of possibility which ever change as paths not taken die away and new ones take their place. Often, a fate remains the same, though the way to it changes, but among such a long lived race, she cannot be certain of this, her dreams of futures to come never confirmed in absolution until they pass.

She dreams of possibility but speaks little of it, even to Odin, for to tell of a fate or a choice can lead to it never coming to pass, for often thing are only assured if the path to them remains intact. And to try to avert something undesirable may only lead to more ruin.

She knows, long before they are ever brought to her, that she will be mother to sons not of her own blood. One of Asgard, one of Jotunheim, and so many years before it will ever come to pass she dreams of how they will fight one another on the edge of their world and the Bifrost will shatter from their actions.

When they are brought to her, once figments of dreams, now made tangible by sight and touch, Frigga holds each. Thor first, for he comes to her days before her husband brings the one who will ever be his brother. The boy is large already, a solid babe who sits heavy in her arms, and she can already see the traces of Odin that linger in his face. He looks at her with bright eyes and grasps tightly to her fingers, and with his small mouth he smiles.

One day, he will be large and strong and so, _so_ proud, and he will wield storms as a weapon.

When the war ends, Odin brings her the second of her sons, and this one is small, so small that were it not for her own knowledge and the blue which blossoms upon his skin when she touches him with magic, she would never know him to be a frost giant. Loki, they call him, and she has already seen his trickster's smile in her mind and how he will wear magic as a cloak and hide within the shadows.

They grow, as children do, and the palace is full of the sound of laughter as they run through the halls. Thor is loud, his voice heard from rooms away, and his hair a golden beacon as his feet carry him swiftly across the grounds. Loki is far quieter when he speaks, but even when he is so young his words are carefully chosen, and his mischief comes from small things.

Some days, he sits at her feet as she spins, and she speaks of magic and enchantments as he listens. These moments are for the two of them only, for Thor has long since decided to favor might over magic and cannot be kept still long enough to explain the finer points of illusion and conjuration. But this son of hers, Loki, takes to magic so easily that one might think him entirely composed of it.

Still, she sees things, as they grow, as Odin favors the son of his own blood, and she worries for them, for all of them. Hers is not a family bound by the bonds of blood, but by something else, and ever the dreams of their fight upon the Bifrost linger in her mind. Frigga worries, but she does not speak of these visions, even when her words cause Odin to look at her with suspicion. He knows that she will not speak of what she sees.

It is her curse, to see what is to come but not speak of it.

Instead, Frigga does what she can, knowing that some things will come to pass regardless of what she tries to do. When she sees Loki fade in Thor's shadow as Odin praises his older son more than the younger, she makes certain to take time to watch him cast his spells, to listen to him talk of his books and the things which he discovers and works out on his own.

At the very least, the brother's have each other, and though each missteps with one another in the way that siblings do – they call each other names and try to outdo the other in many cases, and sometimes Loki's tricks and Thor's words are more hurtful to the other than intended – they do love each other, that is something she can see.

They have each other, and they have her, and she hopes that can be enough.

But they grow, and the Bifrost breaks, and their family born of dreams and love fractures. For all the love Frigga can give, it is not what Loki seeks. He seeks his father's approval and praise – and Odin  _is_ his father, will always be, no matter what anyone else may say or think, no matter that Loki is Jotunn and not Æsir – and that is something which is not hers to give. And so all the dreams she wished to never come turn to reality, and now Thor sits at her feet as she spins at her wheel, so quiet where he was once loud and bright.

When he speaks of how Loki will always be his brother, no matter his parentage, Frigga does not speak, but simply pulls him close.

Her sons, they are both her sons, for in this blood does not matter.


End file.
